When faced with stress, what are the things or experiences that provide you with comfort? For me, there are many simple things, if I only slow down to enjoy them. If I allow myself a guilt-free zone where reading fiction (preferably novels from the late 19th to 20th Century, & maybe some Neo-Victorian works of modern day) or binge-watching movies or TV series through streaming services can be permitted, then I can revel in the glory of respite, that total elation of doing nothing. That feeling is so lovely. No worry of impressing anyone or making decisions, no fear of getting things wrong or disappointing anybody–even myself.

Such moments are savored like the finest chocolate.

If you couldn’t tell by now, coziness matters tremendously to me. Quilts, candles, aromatherapy, music, films, tea, comfy socks… Anything & everything to create a sense of home, a place of peace & contentment. Like Bilbo in Bag End, I try to surround myself with books, objects, & people who add to that sense of warmth & care. Cocooning has such a powerful draw for me. Books, books, & more books. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve experienced significant losses in my family that disrupted my sense of home (my mother sold the house in which I was almost born roughly a year after my father died, adding to the devastation). When my mother sold the house, things changed irrevocably.

At 24, I no longer had a home to return to where my parents hosted holidays or carried on with family events.

Even now, it’s hard to not envy other families who remain intact, who enjoy a family home they’ve had for years. That hasn’t existed for me for almost 20 years now. After cancer claimed my father and closest brother, I felt a loss of identity. Who was I now, if I was no longer a daughter to my father or sister to my brother? We were a tight unit, my mother, father, brother Dan, and me. So many of my memories revolve around that unit through young adulthood. We were a team.

Lyrics from Stevie Nicks’ Landslide have long resonated with me: “Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? / Can the child within my heart rise above? / Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides? / Can I handle the seasons of my life?… (Mmmmhmm, I don’t know).”

Whenever I hear that song, I well up with tears. It hits too close to home. I try to bury loss & not look at it, but it’s there still affecting & controlling me. Maybe it would have been easier if I hadn’t loved them so much? To have male care & affection without the sexual element was such a gift. I think I’ve just missed that beyond all expression. There remain holes in my heart I can’t fill. I miss being able to sit next to my brother with a physical comfort & laugh & laugh about absolutely nothing. We could just look at each other & crack up.

Please know I count my blessings. I was lucky to have an awesome dad & brother. But, man, the loss. The LOSS.

And, so, I’m still processing that difficulty in attaching to people even though I know I’ll eventually lose them. Death has left its mark on me. Despite however much I try to console myself that I’m still connected to my father & brother, the fact remains that I cannot see them, hug them, be with them, or do things together. My anger really ties to a deep sadness that simply remains. Additional losses that have occurred since their passing have only compounded my fear in attaching to others. It feels like everyone eventually leaves.

So, I guess my challenge is to rewrite that narrative. To find a way to adapt. Maybe reading & writing will help me to do just that.